


so, you've saved the world

by kuro49



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Harry Lives!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still. That is Harry fucking Hart lying on the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so, you've saved the world

**Author's Note:**

> this movie is a fucking blast, Eggsy's 'I'd rather be with Harry' slayed me, and english english is not my forte. 
> 
> (this has nothing to do with anything with this fic, but, happy chinese new year! :D)

Eggsy turns his head, and his gaze is only a little bit accusatory.

Still, it is telling how far he’s gotten, not to swing before he thinks. Or maybe, he’s just a tad bit smarter, knows enough to pick the fights he’s got a chance in winning, and one with Merlin is not one he’s got an ounce of confidence in.

Still.

 

That is Harry fucking Hart lying on the bed.

 

He is lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, nursing a new set of bruises to add to his collection of _Saving the World_ while Merlin picks up his clipboard from the ground. And he reckons he can get away with calling this one _Fuck these Knights_ if just because he’s lasted longer than anyone else.

(Roxy hardly counts, she’s already one of them knights.)

“He asked me not to tell you.” Merlin says, and Eggsy isn’t entirely sure that it isn’t pity making the man talk at all.

“’til?”

“After.” Merlin answers, and it is not relief when Eggsy lets out a breath from between his teeth.

He doesn’t know how much Merlin is reading from his expression alone but he figures that much is worth shite now. Sitting up from the ground, he chances blinking as he turns his head back to the bed, and his gaze is only a little bit accusatory when it rests over Galahad.

If only because the man is still breathing remains a fact.

 

Only the cameras catch Merlin’s expression at the pair.

 

Eggsy remembers very little of the last couple of days, between being asked to shoot his dog and watching Harry being shot through the tiny laptop in a damn domestic apartment and seeing the way human heads can explode like fuckin’ firework.

He remembers this.

He remembers Galahad between his legs, knife cutting the ropes at his wrists before turning the handle to him, letting him cut the knots still keeping him to the train tracks.

The single lock that falls, out of his style, and over Harry’s eyes leave Eggsy on his back for a moment longer.

 

So, he’s saved the world, what now?

 

He sits by him, JB on his lap, and the central AC filling in the silence.

He sees him with bandages wrapped around his head, and Eggsy realizes, belatedly, that he never does ask Merlin the extent of the damage. Never asks whether Harry will wake up, or if he does, whether he will wake up the same Harry fuckin’ Hart he met outside of the station.

Leaning against the wall in a three piece suit, looking nothing like anything that belongs in Eggsy’s world.

 

He waits for him to wake, and when he does—

 

“Mr. Porter did wonders on you, Eggsy.”

He turns his head to the man on the bed, and he swears his eyes aren’t getting wet. He’s got an arsenal of words from the side of the city Harry’s never been in, where it might be filth but it’s filth he knows. But he does touch a finger to the lapel of his suit and the perfect fit it’s got on him. He doesn’t let a single word choke him up, he’s saved the bloody _world_ , he can damn well watch Harry sit up.

“You think I look good.” 

“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you, Eggsy.”

 

He isn’t entirely sure what he wants to do.

 

He is sitting in a chair by his bed, and the credits are up on the screen.

Turning to Harry, that bright red excuse of a robe is still just as obnoxious as the first time Eggsy’s seen Harry in it.

“You’re a bloody wanker.”

The way Harry smiles though—

“You fuckin’ think I’m Vivian.”

The way Harry laughs, it fills the room. And when Eggsy turns his head to the side, so he doesn’t have to see the way Harry tips his head back, his hair falling out of the way he’s got it swept back, his gaze is only a little bit accusatory. He doesn’t admit it then, outside of the station, and he isn’t about to admit it now, inside this room. But he wants to undo him, cufflink by cufflink, seam by seam.

He wants to undo him by that damn bathrobe belt.

 

 

bonus:

“I thought I asked you not to tell him, Merlin.”

In the rare moments, after Harry wakes, after Eggsy takes his place as the next Galahad, you find him with the room all to himself. And that statement is only a fraction correct because your eyes fall on the pug sitting at the end of the next Arthur’s bed, and it is still a sight.

You don’t raise an eyebrow and you expect the scathing look he sends you to be well worth all the trouble he left you on clean up duty for. Jealousy is unbecoming, least of all, on a gentleman.

You tuck your clipboard under one arm, and say.

“Then you haven’t had him _wink_ at you.”

 

XXX Kuro


End file.
